She nodded again, with the same expression of quiet understanding. Then their lips met in a long kiss. Ørlygur felt his head grow dizzy, and it was not till he found himself galloping away on his horse that he recovered.
“If I fail tomorrow,” he thought to himself, “I am a scoundrel. But I must build that cairn.”
And after a while he murmured half aloud, with an air almost of disappointment:
“She didn’t seem in the least impressed—took it as if it were nothing at all.”
CHAPTER X
Jon Hallsson was standing deep in thought when Ørlygur dashed out of the kitchen, snatched the reins out of his hands, and galloped off without a word or look in farewell.
“He’s in a hurry to go off and break his neck,” he thought, and added: “I wonder he doesn’t give up that mad idea. With a girl like that....”
Then he went indoors, hoping that he might remain undisturbed that night.
When Jon Hallsson had settled down to drink in the evening, he did not like to be called out. But his drinking had never interfered with his work; some people even went so far as to say that they would rather have him slightly drunk than perfectly sober. Strangely enough, despite his weakness in respect of drink and women, he had never lost the respect of those about him. He was a clever doctor, and kind to the poor; he talked straight out, like a man—at times a little too much so. And so people liked him. After all, it was no concern of theirs how he lived or what he made of his life. There was only one man who detested him, and that was the priest. But the latter was not so popular among his flock that he could venture to give vent to his feelings beyond an occasional remark.
Jon Hallsson was from another part of the country, but had held his present post for fifteen years. When he had first come to the place, he had been unmarried, and the district at Hofsfjordur was regarded as merely a stepping-stone to a better. He was looked on by his colleagues as a man who would certainly rise in his profession.